


It was a murder (but not a crime)

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Partners, Aurors, HP: EWE, Law Enforcement, M/M, Mild Language, Ministry of Magic, Minor Character Death, Murder Mystery, Prejudice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-21 07:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6043642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things take an interesting turn in Draco's life when he gets partnered with Harry Potter. He isn't sure if he's more shocked by his friendship with Auror Potter or the fact that someone out there might be trying to kill him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Obliviate_Amores](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obliviate_Amores/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Cell Block](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4191486) by [Obliviate_Amores](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obliviate_Amores/pseuds/Obliviate_Amores). 



> **Disclaimer** : Harry Potter characters are property of JK Rowling, no offence or any copyright infringement is intended. Written for fun, and not for profit. This is a reverse perspective remix of [_Cell Block_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4191486) written by [obliviateamores](http://obliviateamores.livejournal.com/). I own nothing.
> 
>  **Author's Notes** : Title comes from lyrics of the song _Cell Block_. I suppose I should have listened to the song, and watched the video,  before I read the fic _Cell Block_ , and/or wrote this story. I had a vague idea that it had something to do with _Chicago_ , The Musical. Alas, I listened to the song for the very first time when it was time to title this fic. And then, of course, I became obsessed with it, and the video. Seriously. I reckon I should say, _I had it coming_. Thank you to my team of amazing people (see: two), who gave me excellent feedback and helped shape this story up! I hope you enjoy.

"They had it coming."

Draco couldn't argue with logic.

Sure, some would debate that the Ministry officials, the people who'd done terrible things out of fear, did deserve the despair — all the lives lost and all the families destroyed — maybe, maybe they did deserve the absolute misery of Azkaban. But who was to decide that? Just because someone was on the 'right' side of the war didn't mean those that were sucked in without a choice were merited a horrible death.

When his father was sentenced to Azkaban, Draco felt an emptiness inside him. Draco's outward appearance made him look different, he knew. He didn't look like the boy he'd been at Hogwarts anymore. He struggled to make himself look pristine, but on the inside, he was just _lost_.

When Potter testified on his behalf, Draco was shocked. What was he supposed to do? He had pretty much resolved himself to a life in Azkaban. Then Potter had to come bloody waltzing in — and what? Save the day? Sure he was thankful his mother received a lighter sentence but Draco...

Maybe Draco, too, _had_ it coming.

==//==

After it was all over, all Draco could do was worry about the future. He joined the Auror training programme because it felt like the most noble cause to join. The only way he could prove to the wizarding world that he was _something_. That _Malfoy_ wasn't always going to be associated with the bad. Malfoys could do good.

He headed off to Germany, the only Auror institution that accepted his application, to make something of himself.

When it came to using his intelligence, Draco was the best in his training programme. He was the fastest learner, and the quickest one to solve the mystery. However, he could have used more ability in stealth. He was excellent in reaction, and defence, but slow in offence.

When the other trainees in his programme wanted to play a trick on him, he would succeed in dodging them, but when it came time to retaliate, he was often too slow. His trainer would always catch him for "buggering about," but not his counterparts.

It'd been the most challenging thing he'd gone through in his life. More than living with the Dark Lord and succumbing to his fancy. Then, when Draco wasn't needed, he could have easily hid. In the training programme, there was no hiding. His mother wasn't around to protect him, his aunt wasn't around to take attention off him, and he was nearly always in the spotlight.

He had no idea how he'd survived the training, but he did. He earned respect from his teachers and maybe a bit of regard from his peers.

Finally, he was headed back to the British Ministry and live in England.

The next time Draco heard of Potter, they were nearly full-fledged Aurors. The fact that Weasley wasn't automatically assigned his partner was surprising to Draco. Weren't they attached at the bloody hip? He'd thought that Potter would get special treatment, no matter what.

It was when Draco arrived at the Ministry with all the new Aurors, he _saw_ Potter for the first time. They’d briefly locked eyes and Potter glared at him as if Draco had no right to be there. Maybe he didn't. Then the git had scowled as if Draco were up to something sinister. Draco placed his hand in his pocket, wand at the ready. Was Potter going to challenge him right then and there? 

It couldn't be.   
He wasn't totally careless.

What _was_ Potter's obsession with Draco, anyway?

Whatever Potter was going to do was interrupted when Dawlish, the Deputy Head Auror, spoke. "You have all been assigned partners for the near future. I must impress upon you that these partners are fixed until we decide to reassign you, which is unlikely to happen. Each pair has been assigned a cubicle, and a senior Auror who will supervise you initially, and to whom you should take any concerns."

The assembled people gave a low mutter of disapproval and Dawlish smiled thinly. "Good," he said, looking grim. He may have been smiling but he was definitely not amused by the reaction he'd received from the crowd. Draco tried to not care. No matter who his partner was going to be, that person was not going to be happy about it. Draco would just have to live with it until his assigned partner would most likely go to the supervisor and request a change. It'd been like that at the Auror training so why would things be any different now?

After Dawlish's instructions, the crowd of people began to troop out of the door. Potter looked at Draco again. Draco had already been so damned self-conscious when he'd arrived and the fact that Potter couldn't just bloody well leave him alone was more nerve-wracking.

Ignoring Potter, Draco focused on his nervousness. Who was going to be his partner? Was that man or woman going to give him a hard time or just flat out ignore him? If Draco's luck worked the way it usually did, which it didn't, he'd get a snobby git who talked too much and Draco would have to do all the work.

With all the glaring Potter had been doing, it was truly surprising Weasley hadn't noticed him yet. Draco snuck out of the room the moment Potter's eyes were off him and he went to find the register where the partners were listed.

Naturally, Draco should have expected it.   
He was assigned to Potter.   
Potter was always inevitable. 

He would have laughed it weren't just the most sadistic thing in the world. He kept his reaction to himself and hid as he saw Weasley and Potter approach.

"I'm with Susan Bones," said Weasley as they cleared the crowd. "Not bad, I suppose. She was quite nice, as far as I remember. I'd rather have been with you, though."

"Yeah. It's a shame we can't be partners. It'll be weird, fighting without you."

"You too, mate. Who're you with, anyway? I didn't see your name."

Potter sighed as if it were the most exhausting thing in the world. The nerve, really. "Three guesses," he said.

"You don't sound too happy about it," Weasley noticed. "Ernie Macmillan? He's always been a pompous git." Draco couldn't blame him about that, Weasley was right.

Potter shook his head.

"I don't know then. Tracey Davis?"  
"Nope."  
"No idea. I give up," said Weasley with a frown. "Tell me."

" _Draco sodding Malfoy_."

Draco scowled at the declaration. Fucking brilliant. Potter would be too gutless to go to their supervisor and asked to be replaced in his assignment, but in front of his friends, he's going to bloody well insult Draco.

Weasley's mouth dropped open. "He's an Auror? Who the hell let him into the Ministry?"

"I don't know. He is supposed to be reformed now, I guess."

Weasley snorted. "Bloody likely. Poor you. You're going to have to put up with him every day now."

Potter groaned. "Don't remind me."

They walked past the hallway where Draco had been hiding and was listening to them. Some Aurors they were going to make if they didn't even notice their private conversation wasn't so private. What was he going to do? Put up with it for as long as he could and _hoped_ Potter would get injured and would have to sit out the year so Draco could get a new partner?

Anyone but Potter would do. Honestly, anyone.

As he made his way home, Draco decided to stop by and see Theo. It'd been a few weeks since he'd visited his friend—his only friend and since Theo was so much of a homebody now, he would never come to see Draco. Maybe he could tell Theo all about his problem; at least he'd get a smile out of it from his friend.

Since Theo lived in the Muggle world, it was easier for him to get the papers for Draco and they sat and solved puzzles together. He was glad Theo liked doing that with him, even though his neighbours all thought they were crazy. They always insisted that Draco and Theo go out and "meet new people," but they didn't know what their past had been like and sitting around and just solving mundane puzzles was far better than trying to pull at a nightclub.

==//==

It was his first official day of work. First official day of work with Harry Potter as his partner. When Potter arrived at the small office, he dumped his cloak at the chair across from Draco's. It was twenty-five past eight; at least Potter was on time. Draco was slightly worried if Potter had been late, it would somehow turn into _his_ fault, and then their supervisor would take it out on him. Because Potter was a bloody saint. Because Potter walked on bloody water.

Eventually Potter sat down at the chair and stared at Draco. Draco kept his nose in the paper, his thoughts on the latest puzzle he was solving, because solving puzzles was a lot better than dealing with human beings. Dealing with Potter.

Potter just sat there. He was staring at Draco and it made the hair on of back of Draco's neck rise. Why did Potter have to be so attentive? Why couldn't Potter have a hobby? He looked up and met Potter's gaze, it was evident that Potter wasn't going to say anything. Draco folded the paper in half and placed it on his desk. He didn't want Potter's prying eyes on his things.

"We should go see Proudfoot," Draco said and Potter seemed startled. Had he not been expecting Draco to talk? Potter was just sitting there like a brute so what did he expect Draco to do? He got up and walked away without waiting for Potter.

His heart was pounding. This wasn't training anymore. Here he was standing outside his supervisor's door—his nerves wouldn't settle, and neither would the tapping of his foot. When Potter caught up to him, he looked annoyed. No doubt, judging Draco's demeanour.

Uncertain of himself, Draco hesitated to enter so he gave Potter a once-over. Honestly, the man could have cut his hair, at least. Still, his trousers fit him well, and he forced himself to look away. He didn't want to stare at Potter, while he could feel his face burning up. Why of all the times, did Draco start thinking about how well Potter's trousers fit? He quickly looked away, scowling, and knocked at the door. He was just _so_ annoyed with himself.

"Come in," came a voice from inside.

From the moment Draco sat across from Proudfoot, he knew that she was a no-nonsense kind of a woman. She was a tall, stern-faced woman. Draco spent a small stretch of time trying to figure out how old the woman was but came up blank. She could have been his mother's age or McGonagall's — it was impossible to tell. She seemed like she had a lot of experience in the field though, so he guessed that she'd been with the DMLE from at least before the Second Wizarding War.

She was direct and never spent any time longer than necessary to discuss the case and her expectations from her subordinates. He liked that about her.

Nevertheless, every time she spoke, her gaze lingered on Draco just a bit longer than Potter, and he worried that maybe she was judging him. Maybe she didn't think that Draco had what it took to make it. Maybe she thought that an ex-Death Eater didn't deserve to be there.

Weeks passed and she never said anything.

Proudfoot continued to simply assign them case after case and reviewed their performance. Which, thankfully, was better than average.

==//==

Much to his surprise, the cases they received were mostly small. They were ridiculously routine and nothing was out of the ordinary. Or interesting. He didn't know if he should have been glad or insulted. Were they taking such precautions with him because it was _him_ , or was it because they wanted to treat Potter something special. No way Potter would think this was normal or acceptable.

When he thought about it, he was glad he didn't get cases that brought him attention, still, he couldn't help but believe the bloody Saviour was disconcerted. Potter probably wanted to go into burning buildings and save old ladies or some sort. He was such a bloody Gryffindor without even realising it.

Potter showed up at their shared cubicle every morning at twenty-five past eight, and they worked together. Finite fieldwork was required, otherwise, it was mostly reporting and filing. Their conversations were limited. Only about the case and Draco didn't want to do anything else. Not with _him_.

For some ridiculous reason that Draco couldn't figure out, Potter tried talking to him. It was a disaster.

"What's the newspaper you're reading, Malfoy?"

Draco was sure if he told Potter it was a Muggle paper, Potter would only judge him for it. He didn't want to give Potter the incentive of going back to his friends and having a good laugh at his expense.

" _The Times_ ," he said in the driest tone possible, hoping Potter would back off. He looked up to see Potter whose mouth was half-open and his eyes were wide with surprise. The green of his eyes seemed to glow and Draco stared at them for a moment. He had to force himself to look away. "You needn't look so surprised," Malfoy said as he looked down at the paper.

Potter's expression had been out of this world. Was it so difficult to comprehend that an ex-Death Eater, turned Auror, was broadening his horizons? And _he_ was supposed to be the closed-minded one?

If Draco was honest with himself, Muggles always fascinated him. Their non-magical ways, their technology, nearly everything was alluring. He started reading the Muggle paper because he found it interesting. A distinct culture and lifestyle; it was all so different that he couldn't help but try to learn more and more about it. His father would be appalled if he found out. Quite exactly why Draco followed through with his education of it. The fact that Potter was baffled by it, was almost the extra-added perk.

Unfortunately for Draco, what he'd thought would have been the reason for Potter to stop speaking to him had nearly backfired. The questioning and the curiosity didn't stop.

The idea that Draco was intrigued by Muggle culture, intrigued Potter. Potter was a child in a toyshop and he'd come across something new and he just could not bloody leave it alone. Finally, Draco had had it. He decided to come clean and tell Potter why he preferred the Muggle paper over wizarding ones like _The Daily Prophet_.

"Puzzles," Draco said.

" _Puzzles_?" Potter asked.

"Yes. The ones in the _Prophet_ are shite."

After that, the matter had been put to rest. Or so Draco'd thought. However, when they were walking down a street in a village in Norfolk for an interview for their latest case, Potter's brain started to work again.

"So which puzzles do you particularly read a Muggle paper for?"

Draco raised an eyebrow before he could respond. Of all the things Potter could have focused on, in efforts of getting to know him, his attempts seemed rather pathetic. Draco failed at hiding his instinctive reaction, which was to snort immediately. "Really, Potter? Your attempts at conversation starters get progressively worse."

"Come on, Malfoy. At least make an effort to be civil."

 _How dare he_? Draco had half a mind to just walk away. He'd not been this furious in such a long time. "Civil?" he nearly spat out the word. "I do apologise, Potter. It isn't as though you have been the exact model of civility over the years."

"Ever since the war, I have been perfectly nice!" Potter said, almost _pleading_ in a way Draco wasn't used to. Still, it wasn't enough for Draco to back down now.

"You think I don't see those looks of suspicion you give me. Just because you appear to have gained enough sense to realise there is no point antagonising me does not mean I don't know how you think about me. Personally, I'm sick of it. This tortured façade of politeness to attempt to make me tell you what I'm doing here is even worse than the insults."

The entire time, Draco had kept it all inside. He didn't want to burst out exactly like this and that's what'd just happened. What was it about Potter that just brought out the worst in him?

"You want to know what I'm doing here? Fine. I'll tell you everything. I am attempting to rebuild my family name, which has been dragged through the fucking mud, by actually doing something worthwhile in the distant hope people will see I am a human being too, not just some untrustworthy, selfish _Death Eater_. I no longer give a single flying fuck about the things I was brought up on, and I haven't since before the end of the war. Only please explain to me how exactly I was meant to tell the fucking murderous Dark Lord that when he was living in my fucking house, with my parents, ready to kill us all at the slightest sign of disloyalty?"

Potter opened his mouth to speak but Draco cut him off.

"Just fuck off, Potter, and keep your sanctimonious attitude to yourself."

Potter looked genuinely surprised by Draco's unexpected harangue. Unexpected, because Draco hadn't expected himself to go off like that, and he was sure that neither had Potter.

Potter apologised but Draco was so worked up, he didn't hear it all. He continued to rant some more.

At last, Potter found the words to shut Draco up. " _Truce_?" he asked, sounding casual.

That one word nearly shook Draco to the core. He'd expected Potter to throw a fit of his own, storm off, beg to have a new partner be assigned to him. But...Truce? Really? One fucking word and all fight went out of Draco.

Draco managed to keep a scowl on his face.

He had no idea what had come over him. Maybe because it was Potter and it was always _bloody_ Potter. No, he didn't give a flying fuck of what anyone thought but when Potter looked at him with those bloody green eyes, Draco involuntarily started to share. He wanted to _impress_ Potter, make the bloody git like him. Even if he hated Potter himself.

Ultimately, Draco gave in completely. "I like reading _The Times_ because they have both an excellent crossword and a particular unique puzzle that no other paper has. It's called Cell Block."

Potter had a triumphant smile on his face at Draco's admission. As if he'd just won some battle. Draco supposed since he'd been so tight lipped all the time, sharing something so small about himself, would make Potter feel like he'd achieved something big.

He couldn't help but smile after that. Maybe things would be better now. Draco could only hope.


	2. Chapter 2

Unexpectedly, being Potter's partner — correction — being stuck with Potter as he was Draco's partner was no longer a tedious task.

Potter was funny. A bit goofy for Draco's taste but still, funny. He could be charming if he tried, although at most times he was just awkward and rambling. Draco tried to pay attention to it, but he'd just start thinking about his Cell Block puzzle and pretend to listen to Potter. It was awful, but then eventually Potter would shut up and they'd fall into a comfortable silence.

If Draco was put under a Veritaserum, he'd say "yes," to the fact that maybe — just maybe — he was becoming friends with Potter. Nevertheless, he had to admit, they did work well together.

==//==

"I expect you've heard talk round the department about the new Death Eater case."

Draco stiffened as he sat in his chair, next to Potter, and across from Proudfoot. She was pacing around the room, which didn't help Draco's nerves, any less. The case was about the murder of three separate people who'd had ties to Voldemort's regime, either through family or through being active but minor supporters. It'd been possibly the only stimulating case that'd come across the Ministry in a long time. Everyone was curious, everyone wanted to be on it, it was going to make or break their careers.

"It's your lucky day," Proudfoot said as she stopped and glared down at both of them. There was no sign of amusement, encouragement, or intrigue. It was just a matter of fact for her. "Another body was found last night, and we're putting you two in on it."

Draco was still slightly frozen in shock with the news. Another murder victim. And they wanted _him_ on it? Wouldn't he be just walking into a trap? Is this what the Ministry wanted? This was surely a safe way of getting rid of Draco.

Potter came to the rescue as the silence in the room had been lingering for far too long. "Who was the new victim?"

Why didn't Draco ask that question? He should have been quicker! He couldn't believe how much this affected him, just listening to Proudfoot speak about it. He'd have to get his head out of his arse if he was going to be in the field dealing with the case.

Draco was absolutely annoyed with himself. He wasn't quick to respond and he did not need Potter to hold his hand, even if he sort of liked that Potter was brisk in the questioning.

"Almira Rosier." She looked right at Draco when she spoke next. "Your cousin."

"Distant cousin," Draco said as he felt his voice shake a little, but he knew he'd managed to keep his mask on. It was only a matter of time until the killers came close. Close to him. 

He didn't remember getting dismissed from Proudfoot's office but when Potter got up on his feet, then so did Draco. He followed Potter back to their small cubicle and he plopped down, looking over the evidence.

"You okay, Malfoy? You looked a bit shaken in there."

Draco looked up to meet Potter's eyes. "Of course I'm fucking shaken. What do you think they're trying to do here? They're bringing the ex-Death Eater in on the case that seems to be all about Death Eaters. They're testing me, yet again, because nobody in this fucking place fucking trusts me."

"You do know you swear too much, don't you?" Potter asked, amusement all over his tone. "And you could at least try to expand your vocabulary. You basically just use fuck all the time."

"Fuck off, Potter," Draco shot back, and he wanted to throw his head back and laugh at the retort but refrained.

"Look, Draco. It'll be fine. We just have to solve this case, and win such great glory in the Auror department that no-one will ever dare to question us." Potter grinned at him as if they were eleven and this was no big deal. Sure, the man had been defeating the Dark Lord from the age of eleven, it was no big deal to him.

"Don't get so cocky. This may be funny to you, but it certainly is not to me. Even if we solve the wretched case, people will always think, oh, maybe he did it to protect his old Death Eater pals. And if we don't, they'll just question my loyalty and commitment to this fucking warped Ministry. Either way, I lose." Draco couldn't help but be cynical about the situation. He knew that there was no way he was going to win in this situation. At best, they'd catch the culprit, at worst, he'd been the next one dead.

Maybe that wouldn't be so bad after all.

Potter looked at him quietly. Maybe he suspected Draco, too. Maybe he was re-thinking about being his partner and didn't want to get involved in the Death Eater scandal. He was just always so vocal about his damn privacy and need for normalcy and this case was anything but _that_. It was pulling him back into the war, the remnants of it, at least. What if Potter didn't want the murderer found? What if Potter wanted them all dead? What if he wanted Draco dead? 

_If he wanted you dead he wouldn't have testified for you at the Trials_. The voice nagged Draco and he knew it was right. Potter was a wanker but not a cold-blooded arsehole. Even if his grin was stupid and goofy and it made Draco feel warmth in places that'd been cold for years. No, he probably didn't want Draco dead. He probably didn't want Draco, anything.

==//==

Whenever they had their quips, Potter referred to him as Draco, which he didn't like. Okay, maybe he did. But he preferred Potter keep it to a professional level. He still didn't _feel_ like they were friends. Not really.

"Is this meant to be writing?" Potter asked Draco when he couldn't follow along with Draco's notes on the Death Eater case.

"It's shorthand. I took all my notes in it all the way through Hogwarts," Draco shot back, not looking up. He didn't have time to focus on explaining things to Potter. "It's easier."

"Yeah, for you maybe, but how the hell is anyone else meant to read this?"

"Maybe they're not meant to. Maybe it's my secret Death Eater plan for world domination," Draco joked, surprised at how easy it was for him. Last week, he wouldn't have been so relaxed, not about the case, not with Potter. Things were certainly...changing.

"Oh, and how are you going to do that? Win the world in a crossword competition?"

"Hey! I'll have you know I am extremely good at crosswords."

Potter laughed. "Yes, yes. And your funny little puzzles with the squares. "

"My funny little puzzle has a name, you know. And I bet you'd be shite at it."

Potter looked as though he were thinking it over. He was a bad actor. "Well Malfoy, I'll have you know...anything you can do, I can do better."

Draco snorted. "I'd like to see you try."

"And I will. And I will win."

When Potter claimed he could beat Draco at his puzzle games, Draco was sure he'd be pants at it. Potter looked down at the puzzle page which was folded open. He stopped for a moment, really thinking it over. This time Draco knew he wasn't acting. "Scared, Potter?" Draco teased.

Potter looked up immediately and his face lit up. "You wish, Malfoy."

No matter how much they were teasing each other now, and how at ease they seemed to be, the case was still the main focus of their connection. The case worried Draco. He felt...he _knew_ he was next. He had to be. If not, then some other person close to him was next. All he wanted to do was solve the case and solve it fast. He was eager to get back to his life. Whatever normalcy he had now developed with is puzzles...and dare he say it? _With_ Potter. 

Potter was always pushing Draco. He wanted Draco to open up and Draco wanted that too, but he kept it all inside. He'd been kept in all inside his vault for so long; he had no idea how to let anyone in.

At any rate, Potter was a sneaky little shit. He'd catch Draco off-guard while they'd be discussing a case and probe him about his personal life.

"Were you related to any of the other victims?" Potter asked casually, needless to say, to ask about Draco's own personal life history.

"Harry, you may have noticed from our conversations I do not particularly want to talk about my family. So far as I actually call them that. Of course, I'm related to them. They were Pure-bloods." Draco walked away from Potter and sped up. He didn't have time for this. He wanted to find the next victim before the killer did. He wanted to find the killer before anything else.

"Did you just call me Harry?"

"Of course not," Draco snapped. He had, hadn't he? Bloody Potter was trying to annoy the living hell out of Draco. Why couldn't he just shut up and why couldn't they just talk about the case and not how Draco was related to them. And why would it matter if he'd accidentally called him Harry. Everyone called him that. It didn't mean anything.

Their leads were getting them nowhere. Draco didn't have time to think about anything else. He stayed at the office for hours after it was time to go home. At home, he poured over them repeatedly until he found a clue. A good clue. A concrete clue.

Finally, he'd had some luck. As twisted as it'd been.

The files he looked over revealed the names of individuals that had Death Eater ties but without concrete evidence that would have taken them to the Trials. Draco feared for himself, not that he would be a victim but he was judged like them: individuals who couldn't help themselves; the ones that were not given the choice to walk away. All the victims that died were murdered because of who they were related to. Just like Draco, they probably spent years living outside their bodies watching things happen to them, unable to stop it.

Utterly helpless.  
Just like him  
Death eater by name. By association.  
Completely fucked.

The victims died out in the open. They had the stigma yet were killed in broad daylight as if they were invisible.

Was he invisible, too?

He knew this wasn't the time to dwell on his own feelings. It was time to find the killer, to save the next victim.

They spent days searching for anyone who knew the victims. An outsider. But they came out empty. There was no connection between the victims and who they knew since they'd barely interacted with anyone. The victims were mostly recluses. Who would want them dead and how would they go about it? Surely, in their homes, the wards would be up and the murderer couldn't just go in and out from wizarding homes without being noticed. 

Then, it hit Draco.

A realisation—the fact that had been in front of him the entire time. The Dark Lord had minions to do his work, so why wouldn't this killer? If these kills weren't random, if these particular people were being targeted for a specific reason—more than just the fact that they had Death Eater ties, more than one person would want them dead.

It wasn't just one killer.

"Unless it isn't just one person," Draco blurted out, sitting across from Potter and looking over all of his notes.

Days of research proved to Draco only one thing. "There has to be more than one person."

He thought it over, over and over again. The killer wasn't just _a_ killer, there had to be more than one. And if he and Potter had counted the days correctly, there was going to be another murder soon.

==//==

On his day off, Draco continued his research at home. He mulled over the papers hoping Potter would contact him. They were granted an evening off because they'd been running around in circles. Savage told them to take rest and return to the office more rejuvenated. Draco should not have been working on the case, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to solve it. He wanted Potter there to help him with it.

But why?

He didn't need Potter's help; it only slowed Draco down. Still, someone was going to die today. Someone close to Draco and there was nothing he could do. He knew he needed to relax, let his mind wander off to other things so when he'd come back to the case, he'd find what he was looking for.

He grabbed the scraps of Muggle newspaper, the unsolved puzzles, and headed off to visit Theo.

==//==

Finding Theo's body gave Draco another shock.

He couldn't believe he didn't think to check on Theo earlier on. He couldn't believe that in his efforts to keep his name clean, to impress Potter and his associates, Draco'd nearly _forgotten_ about Theo.

There were so many emotions flowing in and out, he didn't know what to do with himself. The horror of his friend being dead; the fear of how he was next, and the need...the need for Potter to be there. To comfort him. Potter wouldn't be able to, Draco knew that, but he wanted him there. Regardless. 

When he gathered himself together, he Floo-called Potter. He needed Potter to fix this. He knew he couldn't do it alone, as much as it anguished him to admit so.

Potter, of course, asked why Draco hadn't called the Ministry. He looked confused, and slightly pleased at the same time. Hopefully, Potter wouldn't report him for not following protocol. Any normal person would have called the Aurors. Since Draco was an Auror, he called Potter. His partner. The need to rely on Potter cut through Draco something fierce.

In time, he went through the motions of properly reporting it as Potter examined the crime scene.

"They're telling Savage, and she and someone from the mortuary will be here shortly," Draco said to Potter as he finished the Floo-call and went back into the room where Theo's body lay. Draco tried not to look at him. He focused on Potter.

Why had Potter looked pleased he'd call him first? Maybe...if Draco could dare voice his feelings, maybe Potter felt something, too. Or maybe he was just happy Draco called on the Saviour.

He'd probably get off on that later.

Except, Draco knew Potter—Harry— wasn't like that.

"Who else did he regularly see?" Potter asked him as if Draco were a suspect or a witness, not like an Auror. That stung a bit but he knew if the roles were reversed, Draco would be doing the same. Just because _he_ broke protocol, didn't mean Potter would, too.

"No one really. He was on speaking terms with his neighbours but they're all Muggles. Theo liked living like a Muggle himself."

Potter raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Why?" he asked, sounding a bit accusatory.

Draco sighed. "He was hiding from the world. He was a Slytherin, his father was a Death Eater, and he was forced into supporting Voldemort. But he wasn't a strong enough supporter to be on the good side of the people who were, and everybody on your side – well. They will shun anyone who doesn't exactly conform to their disgustingly Gryffindor world view."

"But that's not true of all our side!" Potter said, sounding outraged. "Look, you've managed to get on in the Ministry, and you were a full Death Eater and everything."

Draco turned around immediately. Of course, he didn't feel anything between himself and Draco. This was how he still thought. This was how _everyone_ thought of him.

"Thanks for the reminder, Potter. Anyway, I have more to fight for than Theo. And he was never very outgoing anyway."

"I – I'm sorry, Malfoy. I didn't mean it like that."

Draco turned back towards him. "I know," he said with a sigh. He was exhausted. The whole day pouring over the files, the need to see Potter, and then finding his friend dead because he'd been neglecting him was just all too much to bear. He wasn't angry. Not anymore. He didn't have it in him. He nodded at Potter and spoke again, "Let's see what we can find."

Knowing Theo had willingly invited in his killer, not knowing what he or she wanted to do to him, put Draco in a darker mood. It was a friend. Maybe a distant relative. If Draco had arrived earlier, he could have saved Theo.

The guilt of another death on his conscious was nearly insufferable. Still, he knew he needed to trudge through this. He was close. Closer to finding the killer now. He was not going to let anyone or anything get in the way.

"It can't be a Muggle," Potter said when they discussed the list of people who came to visit Theo. 

"What if one of the neighbours wasn't a Muggle?" Draco asked. There wasn't a way for a wizard to recognise another wizard just by looking at them. What if some of the people that came to visit Theo were wizards and they just didn't tell him?

It was just a matter of time until the duty clerk did an in depth review of the neighbours to find anyone that wasn't as harmless as they were pretending to be.

"Marjolaine Douglas. Son Henry Douglas, Muggleborn wizard, b. 1977, d. 1998. Husband deceased," Draco read aloud. This was it. They had their first suspect and probably the only actual lead to the real killer.

"I never thought it'd be this easy," Draco said glum. He knew he was missing something but they wouldn't be able to find it until they interrogated her.

"She can wait in the cells for the night," Potter said with a sly smile. "We can interview her tomorrow."

Sure, this was a reason to rejoice slightly. They'd finally had a break. Even so, Draco couldn't stop feeling the loss that was now deep in his bones.

"Theo was a good person," he said. "He never agreed with his father, and he certainly shouldn't have died for it."

Theo was one of Draco's only friends left. The emptiness he felt inside seemed to be now only growing. One wrong move and he could shatter.

Forgetting he was with company, Draco allowed his gloom to show on his face. Potter, of course, picked up on it and offered Draco to join him and his friends for a drink.

"I don't need pity, Potter," Draco snapped. Even though that's what he deserved. He'd had it coming.

"It's not pity! I just thought maybe you could use a friend!" Potter snarled and his eyes grew dark. Draco looked away, scared at how Potter made him feel.

Secure.  
He wasn't alone.

Potter wanted to be there with him. He composed himself and turned around. "All right then. Thank you," was all he could muster. He didn't need to fall apart in front of Potter.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco was nervous about interviewing their suspect. He didn't recognise the woman when he'd first heard her name, and even then when he and Potter entered the room.

"I know you," the woman said dispassionately. "You're that Death Eater they let off."

Draco immediately became tongue-tied. He wanted to retort but refrained himself. What could he have said? The woman's son was a Muggleborn wizard and was dead because of the Dark Lord. Because of people like Draco and his family.

Potter quickly jumped in for his defence. "If you could just answer our questions, please."

Interrogation with the woman was going nowhere. Either she was lying or she didn't remember anything. They knew it was time for the Veritaserum. It was rarely used on Muggles but it wasn't considered illegal. After the Muggle-Wizard Treaty of 2000, Muggle police allowed Aurors to use Veritaserum on murder suspects as long as they'd provided complete case reports to the police department. It was a matter of trust and so far the Ministry had been very cooperative with the Muggle Law Enforcement and vice versa.

"Where is he going?" Marjolaine Douglas asked, fear all across her face which resulted in Draco feeling a bit relieved. It was clear, she was hiding _something_.

"To get some Veritaserum. A wonderful thing about the recent developments in Potions is how we've managed to make many of them work on Muggles."

Her eyes widened, but she said nothing.

After Potter carefully administered the drops of Veritaserum in Mrs Douglas's mouth, he returned to his seat next to Draco. "Now. Please give me your full name," he asked.

"Marjolaine Tessa Douglas," she said, methodically.

"And did you kill Theodore Nott?" Draco asked, nervous. His hands were shaking so he balled them into fists and put them in his pockets.

Her mouth worked for a second. "Yes."

Draco heard Potter take in a sharp breath but Draco continued on, "Did you murder Almira Rosier?"

She answered quickly. Without any hesitation, "No."

Draco glanced at Potter, feeling lost. He asked more questions, "Thaddeus Thoreau? Isabella Selwyn? Simon Travers?"

"No. none of them," she said, resolutely.

"But do you know who did kill them?"

She looked to be giving it some serious thought. As if the name was there — just there on the tip of her tongue and refusing to come out. "Not anymore."

"What do you mean, not anymore?" Potter got up angrily, and pushed his chair back. Draco was afraid he was going to do something rash.

"My memory was modified so their identity would not be known in case anyone was caught," she said, calm as ever. It was facts she stated with no emotion. She obviously didn't feel any remorse for committing the murder.

_They had it coming._

Potter looked over at Draco and Draco knew even though he was struggling to maintain his composure, he was failing. Potter's eyes softened and he looked away from Draco and towards the woman again.

"Tell us why you killed Theodore Nott, then," continued Draco reluctantly.

"He had it coming. He killed my son."

It was true. Theo had killed Douglas' son. Savage informed Draco and Harry that a group of Death Eaters ambushed a group of Muggleborns and half-bloods who were on the run during the war. If Theo had killed her son, even though there was no evidence of it, it would have been because he was pressured to do so.

It wasn't fair to murder people who were victims themselves. Marjolaine Douglas killed Theo because he'd been involuntarily involved in the war. It was a vicious, never-ending cycle of revenge that _needed_ to come to an end.

Whoever the culprit was, was clever. Cunning. Fast and with a good plan. To use Muggles and then Obliviate them was work of a mastermind; it would have taken months to plan and carry out.

==//==

To say that Draco was scared was an understatement. After Savage had released them, Draco didn't want to go home. Not just yet. What could he do to keep Potter with him just for a few more hours?

As they walked back to the office, Draco cleared his throat. He didn't know how to begin. "I, ah, was wondering, since you invited me yesterday, if you'd like to come and get a drink? Or maybe lunch?"

Draco was holding his breath, anticipating Potter's answer.

"Sounds good. They serve food at the Leaky Cauldron," Potter joked and Draco felt a bit lighter.

They walked quietly out of the Ministry and no one seemed to be paying them any mind. Then a quick Apparition later, as Draco Side-alonged with Potter, they were at the pub. Potter opened the door for him as if they were on a date, but Draco dismissed that thought immediately. He didn't want to read too much into the gestures, didn't want to think about how this all made him feel. So, he just focused on the alcohol placed in front of them.

After a few long moments of comfortable silence and several pints of beer later, Draco knew he had a good buzz going.

"Being drunk is better than thinking about Theo," he blurted out when Potter told him he was also drunk. He'd had far too many beers for one afternoon, and Potter didn't seem to care. Neither did Draco. "I don't have any friends left."

"Can I be your friend?" Potter asked, looking like he was genuinely seeking the right words to say. "I think I'd like to be your friend."

Draco wanted Potter to be more than his friend, but he didn't say so. Instead he only quipped back. Because that's what he was good at. "Imagine that. When I was, you know, little… I wanted you to be my friend. And then you were mean to me so I was horrid to you and… " He paused briefly. "Potter—"

"Harry."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I've forgotten what I was saying..."

"That's all right," Harry said, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder. Harry. He was Harry now. Draco didn't even know when it'd happened. No, he did. It'd just happened. Merlin, he was drunk. "You're my friend now." Potter's touch was warm and Draco wanted to lean into it.

 _What would it be like to be in this man's arms_? Draco wondered and finished off the remnants of his pint glass.

After saying his goodbyes to Harry and taking the Floo home, Draco collapsed on his bed. He'd barely rid himself of his clothes as he pulled the covers over him and hugged his pillow. Not for the first time, wishing it were Harry's body. Usually, he spent several minutes hating himself of how he wanted Potter that way, but tonight, he was far too tired and far too drunk to care. He allowed himself a few moments of self-pity, fantasising of Harry next to him, until he fell asleep.

==//==

They were summoned to arrive at the Ministry immediately the next morning, Draco stumbled out of bed and dressed. He searched for a hangover potion in his work desk, sure he'd had one there, when Harry arrived.

 _Harry. That's right. He's Harry now_.

"Do you have a hangover potion?" Harry asked, and Draco scowled, telling him that he was looking for the same thing.

They had no luck. It was going to be a very long day.

"Through Mrs Douglas's help, we've found a list of people that were killed in an attack. The same attack that killed Henry Douglas," Savage told them after Harry and Draco arrived at Savage's office.

Looking grim, Savage handed the list of victims to Harry who looked it over and his eyebrows wrinkled with confusion and concern. Draco read it over Harry's shoulder; the list of people that were killed in an attack, ordered by the Dark Lord, and executed by Death Eaters. The list had several names of Muggleborns that Draco recognised, most important of them all was: Proudfoot.

Draco cleared his throat before he uttered the name, "Proudfoot? Surely she..."

Proudfoot was a surviving family member of a long list of victims, just like Marjolaine Douglas. Proudfoot had magic, yet Douglas didn't. Neither did the other murderers of the other Death Eater and sympathizers.

Proudfoot had to be the mastermind of the attacks. But, why? Why would she bring Draco into the case if she were the one who coordinated the murders? Was she teasing Draco? Testing him?

"That's not the only issue," Savage said, yanking Draco out of his thoughts. "There's also a list of wizards we believe were responsible for this attack."

Harry handed the list to Draco as he read them slowly.

Evan Rosier. Thaddeus Thoreau. Caleb Tavers. Marcus Selwyn. Theodore Nott. Lucius Malfoy.

Draco was not on the list, but he was still going to be a target. His father wasn't accessible, so Draco would have to do. The fear sunk in deeper than he'd imagined it to be. He'd been right all along. No matter what Draco did to save his family's name, Lucius Malfoy had destroyed _everything_.

"They're going to come after me." It wasn't a question.

"It seems that they were out looking for some — for want of a better word — sport," Savage said, her mouth growing thin.

The puzzle pieces were now fitting together. It made sense. Proudfoot was responsible. The Muggles killed the wizards and she'd been the mastermind of it all.

"Draco needs protecting and Proudfoot needs arresting," Potter said, which nearly made Draco roll his eyes.

"I don't need protecting, Harry. I'm going to help arrest Proudfoot."

"Are you sure that's wise, Malfoy?" Savage raised an eyebrow, and she looked between the two of them. Was she reading into something that was there? "It is you she wants to kill," she added. "We protect the innocent. We protect our own."

"All right. But at least, I want to know if she was actually going to kill me. I need to be allowed to speak to her," Draco said, determined. He wasn't going to back down now. Not for himself, or his family name; not for Theo.

==//==

After returning to his desk, Draco did what he did best. He concentrated on the newspaper puzzles. He could feel Harry's eyes on him but he didn't dare look up. He didn't dare show his vulnerability. Not to Harry. Not now. This case needed to be resolved first.

Several hours later, they were called in. Proudfoot was in the interrogation cell and Harry followed Draco all the way down the hall, up to the door of the cell.

"No, wait here," Draco said, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry looked at his hand first, then at Draco's face. "I don't mind you hearing, but she won't respect me if she thinks I need to bring you with me."

Thankfully, Harry agreed.

As Draco turned to walk away, Harry placed a hand on the small of Draco's back; Draco felt a shiver travel up his spine. "Be careful," he said and Draco almost retaliated about the obviousness of that statement, and then Harry added, "She's more manipulative than we gave her credit for. I know you can handle yourself, but...for me. Be careful."

Draco's body slightly relaxed and he leaned into Harry's touch for a quick second before he made his way into the darkness and away from Harry.

"I want to know why," Draco said when he entered the cell and Proudfoot nearly spat in his face. His heart was beating fast. It was aching for his friend. It broke for all the helpless victims dragged in this mess.

"You deserve to pay," Proudfoot snarled. "I got them to put you on the case so you could see what your kind has coming. It was murder, but not a crime. _They deserved it_. My daughter had to watch her friends be tortured and disembowelled because of the vicious cruelty of your lot—"

"They are not my kind at all," Draco said, knowing there was no point in trying to reason with a crazy, cold-blooded killer. He lived with the Dark Lord, he'd know. Once they got something in their head about who needed to die and how, there was no reasoning with them. Still, he needed her to confess it all. It was his job.

"How can killing people and taking revenge be considered just? Didn't you think arresting those people, bringing them to trial would have been better? Isn't that what the law stands for? How can you mentor Aurors and be a killer yourself?"

"Do you have _any_ idea how much effort it took to pretend to be your mentor?" she asked, clearly not listening to anything Draco said. "I specially asked to be assigned to you and Potter, you know. The others all thought I wanted to be able to mentor Potter, but I just needed to keep an eye on _you_. And Potter?" She gave a short laugh. "Look what he's become now. You think he's your friend. He may be misguided, but someone like him could never truly want to be near someone like you."

She gave another cold laugh which sent chills down Draco's spine. Then, she continued, "I've seen the way you look at him. When you think he's not looking. You're pathetic. You and your poor little vain hopes."

Draco stiffened slightly but he didn't care if Harry found out now, or if he didn't feel the same way. He wasn't here for that. He opened his mouth to say something when she cut him off.

"He might fuck you, but he will never love you. One day you will realise that, and you will be miserable, and you will only have yourself to blame."

Draco sighed deeply before he spoke. He whispered his words in an effort to make sure Harry wouldn't hear them. He knew it would be of no use. He didn't want to confess his feelings for Harry like this. Not in front of Proudfoot. He did need to say his piece, all the same. "I know all that. I know that far too well. But it doesn't mean I, or anyone else, deserve to die."

"Death is too good for you..." she snarled.

Draco turned around and started to walk away. He'd already decided there was no reasoning with a mad woman. He looked at Harry when he went up the hall and knew, just _knew_ Harry had heard everything. The look on Harry's face was something Draco couldn't decipher. However, Harry now knew Draco cared for him, more than a friend, more than a partner. More than—

"I think she's wrong, you know," Harry said with a soft smile.

"About what?" Draco asked, as nonchalantly as he could muster up. They'd reached the end of the hallway and headed towards the exit. He placed his hand on the doorknob to open the door when Harry placed his hand on top of Draco's.

"Everything."

==//==

Waking up next to Harry for the first time was all kinds of confusing.

It was a Saturday morning and they didn't have to go to work. Not knowing what was expected of him, Draco simply watched Harry for a while.

As Harry shifted in his sleep, Draco got out of the bed and made his way to the loo to wash up, spending more time than necessary to stall the oncoming awkward moment. Should he have just gone home? Was he supposed to wait for Harry to tell him that? Would Harry have been cross if Draco had just left?

When he returned to the room, Harry was sitting up on the bed. "Okay?" he asked and Draco nodded, still awkwardly standing next to the bedroom door.

"Come here, then."

Draco followed Harry's request and walked back to the bed. He was only wearing a shirt—Harry's shirt, no trousers, no pants, since he'd thought the shirt had been long enough for the moment.

Now, he'd felt exposed.

Harry stared at him with his mouth slightly parted and eyes dark. Draco might have whimpered just a bit. Harry's gaze was powerful enough to pull him in, still he'd told Draco to come closer.

After Draco got under the covers, Harry tightened his hold on him and asked, "Do you have to be anywhere today?"

Draco shook his head, unable to speak, still stuck by Harry's intense gaze.

"Good," Harry said. "I wanted to make you breakfast." He settled himself in between Draco's legs and started kissing him.

Eventually, they'd dressed and went downstairs. Harry pulled out a stool for Draco so he could sit near the kitchen island while Harry cooked.

"Oh, I got this delivered here today," Harry said, handing Draco the Muggle newspaper and a quill. "I figured you could work on your puzzles while I made eggs and pancakes."

Draco was nearly floored by the gesture.

"Don't look so surprised, you're addicted to those things," Harry said and turned around before Draco could embarrass himself by turning red.

As they fell into a routine, Draco became more comfortable in Harry's home, eating at the island, watching Harry's back as he cooked. Sometimes, Draco got up early — earlier than Harry — and did his puzzles in bed, giving him time to watch Harry sleep. Other times, he showered while Harry made breakfast, and then Harry showered as Draco cleaned up. Then, they were off to work.

"Where are you and Ron assigned today?"

"Can't tell you. It's classified."

Harry scowled at Draco before he pulled him in for a deep, long kiss. Then, they were off to their respective cubicles.

Ultimately, because of Ministry's rules about fraternizing, they couldn't be a couple and be Auror partners—Draco was, by no choice of his own, partnered with Ron Weasley. At first, no one liked the idea, _especially_ Weasley but much to Harry's efforts, his friends had finally come around. Draco spent every day with Weasley, and eventually, every weekend with Harry and Hermione and their other friends.

They didn't see Draco as a threat anymore.  
Best of all, they saw him as a friend.  
Harry had been right, and Proudfoot had been wrong.  
About everything.

All he had coming, were good things.

**Author's Note:**

> The [fic link](http://hd-remix.tumblr.com/post/140749533659) and a [pull quote](http://hd-remix.tumblr.com/post/140766953486) have been cross-posted to **tumblr**. Help us promote the fest by liking and reblogging!
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